


From The Heart

by N_Pluto



Series: Worth Every Second [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Music, Sibling Bonding, violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:51:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N_Pluto/pseuds/N_Pluto
Summary: Music leaked through the walls, drifting through the air and drowning the silence that otherwise would have consumed everything. It was never this loud—the music, that is, it very easily got much louder in this house. Vanya never played this loudly.He couldn’t recognize this piece, though he couldn’t recognize most of the songs she played, but this one must be new, he reasoned. It was sorrowful sounding and mournful, as were all her songs. When he had questioned her about that, she replied, “music comes from the heart. How can I play joyful music when I’m not happy?” It pained him to know that she must be sad then, always.





	From The Heart

Music leaked through the walls, drifting through the air and drowning the silence that otherwise would have consumed everything. It was never this loud—the music, that is, it very easily got much louder in this house. Vanya never played this loudly.

He couldn’t recognize this piece, though he couldn’t recognize most of the songs she played, but this one must be new, he reasoned. It was sorrowful sounding and mournful, as were all her songs. When he had questioned her about that, she replied, “music comes from the heart. How can I play joyful music when I’m not happy?” It pained him to know that she must be sad then, always.

He set down his book and crossed the hall to Vanya’s room—hardly a room, a closet more like—knocking carefully on the door. The music stops harshly, letting the silence return.

The door creaks open, Vanya’s head carefully looking up, “oh, Five. What’s wrong? Am I playing too loudly? I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet.” She always thought first to assume that she was in the wrong. He would have to break her of that habit.

“No, I was wondering if I could listen?” Her face lit up with the biggest smile he had seen from her in a long time, he had missed that.

“Of course! Thank you!” She ushered him into her small room, moving her music stand so he could sit on her bed.

“What song are you playing?” 

“Chopin’s Nocturne in C sharp minor.” She raised the bow to the strings. It was beautiful.

She seemed lost in another world when she played, losing herself in the music. He could feel himself becoming lost in it as well; it was entrancing. She really did put her heart and soul into her music, he could tell. 

When she finished her piece and brought down her bow, she opened her eyes and looked anxiously at him.

“It sounded lovely.” He told her earnestly. Once more, she smiled brightly.

“Thank you for listening.” He could hear the hidden message in those words: Thank you for not yelling at me, thank you for noticing me, thank you for treating me like I’m not a waste of space, thank you for not leaving me alone.

He hated that she ever had to feel that way. “You sound wonderful,” he shouldn’t have to be thanked for something as simple as acknowledging her existence or giving her the bare minimum of attention.

* * *

No one, save for Five or sometimes Father, ever went in the library. So he considered it his own secret place. He knew Luther and Allison had the observatory, Klaus and Ben loved the greenhouse, and Diego joined Mom in “her room.” Vanya had her room.

The music faintly echoed through the halls, which were unusually quiet this afternoon. It was comforting, hearing her play. He knew the others liked her music too, but they never told her, or worse, would tell her the opposite. It was frustrating, to say the least. 

He looked back at his book, he had reread the last paragraph three times now, unable to focus on anything but the haunting melody that came from Vanya’s room.

Standing up, he resolved himself to bring Vanya out of her self-imprisonment in her room where she had been since breakfast. He needed company and he knew she did as well.

When he knocked on her door, the music came to a startled shriek. 

“Five,” she let out a sigh of relief, “what’s wrong?” 

“Come with me, and bring your violin.” He took her by the hand and led her to the library where he had been for the past few hours.

“Play for me while I read.” He instructed her gently.

Vanya stood there for a moment, unsure of whether or not he actually meant it, so he nodded at her to begin. Bringing the bow back up to the strings she began to play the same song she had played for him before, Chopin’s Nocturne in C sharp minor. It’d become a favorite of his, and he would request it upon occasion. 

He closed his eyes and listened, allowing himself to become lost in this other world that Vanya frequented. The sound echoed in the library and it offered a haunting beauty.

“Vanya,” he began once she finished, “you are a remarkable violinist.” Judging by her reaction, no one had ever told her that before. “Do you suppose you could teach me?” Truth be told, he didn’t care much to learn an instrument, he wasn’t a musical person, but he knew Vanya would love to share her passion with someone.

Just as he suspected, her face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. 

She held out her violin, “this string is G, this is D, this is A, and this is E.” She showed him how to hold it properly, how to hold the bow, and how to play a few simple songs.

* * *

The silence is all consuming. With no one else, there was only silence. There were no sisters whose music would call out to him, who would accompany him as he read, who would be there with him, always,

* * *

The silence is all consuming. Without him, there was only silence. There were no brothers who would knock on her door and ask for her to play for him, who would instruct her to play whilst he read, who would ask her to teach him.

* * *

“How can I play joyful music when I am not happy?” She had told him once. “How can I be happy without my only friend?” She never got to tell him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudo or a comment!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at nevermore-plutonianshore!


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